by Carlo Zen
The General Staff forgot that while investing the Great Army in Norden, and the price has been higher than anyone imagined.
The fact that the higher-ups have mobilized the instructor unit in an attempt to establish western defenses shows how panicked they are. They even sent out Type 95, a military secret that wasn’t supposed to leave the lab, under the pretext of continued evaluation with Tanya; really, they just wanted the muscle.
Perhaps the rapidly changing war situation gave them no choice, but if they’re in so much turmoil they can’t prioritize confidentiality, there’s no way they can carry out the defense plan as it was envisioned.
The Great Army, the main imperial attacking force, was deployed to the north in its entirety due to an error in strategic judgment. Even if it only took a short time to reorganize and redeploy the troops, that was far too long from a military perspective.
“How is assembling the Great Army going?”
It’s obvious that their difficulties stem from the lack of a plan for this unforeseen need to deploy troops. Even a minutely calculated operation is difficult to execute without hitches, so handling this situation off the cuff seems nigh impossible.
Inevitably, the current pace of assembly is not ideal. In this situation, the delay of reinforcements and ensuing impact on the front are matters of life and death for the Western Army Group, as well as critical concerns for the imperial soldiers who have to suffer the brunt of the attack before the Great Army arrives.
“Not good. They’re short on vehicles in the north, so they need about two weeks to redeploy the units to the west.”
Schwarkopf seems to doubt they’ll really be only two weeks late. Experience has taught him that HQ always gives optimistic estimates when it comes to the number of reinforcements and their arrival time.
Redeployment sounds simple enough, but it involves more than just reorganizing the units and setting up a new chain of command; the units need to be replenished and resupplied before they can go anywhere. It’s no easy feat. Just transporting an army consumes resources—not only fuel and supplies but also intangibles such as soldiers’ energy.
That’s why Tanya isn’t surprised when her superior matter-of-factly explains, “We’ve given up on delaying along the western line. We’re switching to mobile defense.”
Once you determine that buying time won’t cut it, adopting a mobile defense strategy is a natural step. Normally, you would base the troops in rear locations that are reinforced against long-distance enemy artillery and use the distance you withdrew during the delaying battle for defense in depth.
“Lieutenant, I doubt I need to say this to you…but this is a classic example of something easier said than done.”
“Yes, sir, understood.”
The original interior lines strategy calls for the defensive line to obstruct the enemy’s advance and for the Great Army reinforcements to surround and annihilate the forces that have penetrated too deeply into imperial territory. But that line has already collapsed, and they’re now fighting a defensive battle on thin ice, which is not much fun at all. Probably the only enjoyable defensive battle would have been the one fought behind the famous Maginot Line,12 perfect for shut-ins. You could have just holed up in there and wait for the war to end.
To Tanya, this is a problem that goes deeper than a strategic level failure. If you’re planning on fighting using attritional containment tactics, then it should probably have dawned on you to tighten up your border with forts instead of going for a strategy that will fail before the fighting even starts. If command actually assumed that the François Republic would be content to overlook the threat of their exterior lines strategy collapsing upon the defeat of the Entente Alliance, that naivety would leave Tanya dumbstruck. Lower-ranking soldiers like Tanya and Schwarkopf are stuck paying the price of that miscalculation in blood, which is something they can’t tolerate.
“We are soldiers. If the brass tells us to do something, we do it.”
A patriot might argue that the nation’s leading strategists work against the country by dint of their incompetence. Tanya doesn’t house even the slightest intention of dying for the Empire. I always have to make exemplary remarks that go against what I truly feel, acting out the expected role to help myself succeed. To that end, I would even give a Tsugene-esque13 speech, though I despise his incompetence. If it came down to it, I would even shout, “Patriotism is not a crime!”
I can blather about those things as naturally as breathing, and that plus Tanya’s doll-like appearance is enough to suggest my patriotism to anyone listening.
Most importantly, the majority of soldiers detest the idealists throwing around words like patriotism and brave loyalty in the rear, but to them the sentiment of loving one’s country is sacred. Combat veterans who earned their praise in the field swear to defend their country. In extreme conditions, they treat that vow as a declaration of faith.
“…Quite right, Lieutenant Degurechaff.” Thus, the model imperial soldier is one who indifferently completes their missions in adherence to mission-oriented war doctrine, and those qualities are praised. “Good. Back to the topic at hand, then.”
“Yes, sir!”
He must at least be able to tell that I’m not inept. With a deep sense of satisfaction, Schwarkopf is able to relax a bit. The situation is unpleasant to be sure, but here’s a good asset.
He has to take units that were mobilized at the last minute with no clear strategic direction and fight a defensive battle. He’s lost a great number of his already harried troops, the replacements are deadweight recruits, and their leader is a little girl? For just a moment, he feels like looking to the heavens in despair, but for Schwarkopf, the mere fact that Degurechaff is an officer who can get things done makes her one of his few valuable resources.
“The 205th Assault Mage Company has been selected as a mobile strike force in the mobile defense battle.”
Schwarkopf and his company’s skilled fighting and finesse during the initial battles have landed them on the mobile strike duty; their job is to rush around putting out fires, and it will require playing more roles than ordinary units do.
“We are the linchpin of the counterattack. That’s a big responsibility for us to share. I look forward to seeing what you’re made of out there.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant. I’ll do my best to protect the fatherland.”
Tanya looks at Schwarkopf with her innocent blue eyes and speaks of noble ideals and contributing to the nation with her childlike lips.
Of course, Tanya’s words don’t have an iota of sincerity; I just know it’s a line someone in her position should say.
Tanya knows how awful the trenches are—even if my sources are war films and books from another universe—so she’s happy to be a counterattack reserve instead of stuck in one of them.
Certainly, holing up in some fieldworks fortified with reinforced concrete seems like the safer option at a glance. I can understand why amateurs would think that. The invention of the machine gun gave defense the advantage, and to anyone who knows that, the defensive position is unquestionably strong. No one ordered by General Nogi to capture Port Arthur with swords would hesitate to make an “accident” happen. Humans are much frailer than concrete and iron.
At the same time, it’s important to remember that the base at Port Arthur was destroyed by heavy naval artillery. Fortifications on a battlefield have the fatal structural flaw of being immobile. History teaches us that that no matter how sturdy the fortress, before siege artillery it’s nothing but another target. Given the previous point, Tanya knows that being part of a mobile unit out in the field where they can run anywhere they need to in a pinch is safer.
Even a mage can’t attack a well-defended stronghold at close range and get off easily, but I also know that stronghold will get pummeled by artillery. And I’m also aware that attacking the enemy vanguard is safer, if only in comparison, since they’ll be exhausted from breaking through the defensive line.
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br /> Thus, Tanya makes false declarations of loyalty, while the only thing she truly welcomes with joy is her assignment. Raising her chances of survival even just a little is undoubtedly a happy occurrence.
“Great. Any questions?”
“Yes, sir. Will we be sortieing from the defensive line or the rear?”
There’s one point worth bearing in mind. Mobile strike forces come in two types. One is positioned in the rear and responds quickly to seal enemy breaches. The other sets off from a forward position to catch the enemy around their backside. The difference between the two is whether you can kick back and relax as counterattacking personnel in the rear or have to dig trenches and build fortifications while under the constant threat of enemy attack. They are two completely different environments.
Of course, the unit that has to seal the breaches will take some damage since they do have to charge up to the front lines, but generally, the act of launching a counteroffensive in the first place usually means they get to enjoy numerical superiority. In other words, I won’t need to worry about being sent on counterattacks if the situation is overwhelmingly bad.
“Rejoice, Lieutenant. We’ll be on the forward-most line.”
“What an honor.”
This is the worst.
Mobile strike personnel on the front? Meaning they would have to defend the line and double as distraction during the counterattack? No number of lives could be enough. If she were defending from a trench, she could use the nearest people as shields, but she can’t do that if she leaves the line to be a decoy. Pincering the enemy with the guys from the rear might sound great, but we would only be glorified targets.
“I never doubted that would make you happy. We may also need to help defend the strongpoints, depending on what the situation calls for.”
As expected. Should I be happy? I’m not thrilled that my ominous hunch was right on the money. As a way to hone my crisis management skills, this assignment won’t be bad, but I would rather never need to use them.
“So we’ll prioritize mobile strike operations but also support the defensive line?”
“That is correct.”
Am I supposed to just accept my fate? Let myself be exploited as part of the mobile strike force after being stuck on the line? There should be a limit to how much you can overwork someone. I’d like to demand better working conditions or at the very least an increase in base pay.
Of course, I don’t have any problem with performing duties covered by my contract, but this is a bit much. I’d like to be adequately compensated.
“However, our mission isn’t to eliminate the enemy, just repulse them. We don’t need to bend over backward to surround and annihilate them.”
“This is the worst. Assembling the Great Army must be going rough.”
“Oh, you can tell?”
“If we make our only objective to delay enemy forces and don’t adopt a mobile defense aiming to exhaust them, we won’t last long enough. Even the stupidest freshly minted officer could see that.”
They couldn’t possibly conduct a successful delaying defense along the whole huge front. Without using a mobile defense strategy to exhaust the enemy forces, it would be impossible to suppress the enemy; things are so dire that the Empire would have to risk allowing raiders to get through at one location and attack them there. At least they would be organized, so it probably wouldn’t be as much of a disaster as the latter days on the eastern front in World War I, but I still have to brace myself.
“…That’s one way to put it. Well, there’s no cheerful way to fight a war, anyway. Here’s who is in your platoon.”
“Thank you, sir.” Tanya takes a mental deep breath and looks over the list of her first subordinates ever, but it’s so ridiculous, it makes her brain freeze up. It dawns on her that she’s reeling. The only reason she doesn’t instinctively hurl the document away is due to excessive shock, rather than a triumph of reason. In words, her thoughts would be, This is too much! “My understanding was that there was a general lack of key personnel in the Western Army Group and that because of this, the only replacements we could get for the third platoon were rookies with zero experience, but I have to correct myself… Perhaps we should call them untrained recruits?”
“I see no problem with that. This means your platoon will be extremely rough around the edges. I want you to make defending the position your main duty.”
These mages have only completed Cadet Corps basic training, and we’re rushing them into a combat unit? Anyone with half a notion of how mage battles work would laugh it off as an April Fools’ joke. With four to a platoon and twelve in a company, mage teams prioritize skills over numbers more than anyone else. Even someone with innate mage potential would only be in the way as a newbie with nothing more than basic training. This is like taking a guy with only the most basic army rules and regulations beaten into him, putting him in a plane, and telling him to fly. It’ll be worse than a turkey shoot.
I see. By having us on defense, he’s telling me that he doesn’t consider them fit for combat. It’d be irrational to expect anything out of this unit, so it’s a valid conclusion.
“Commander, a humble suggestion, as platoon leader, if I may…”
“Lieutenant Degurechaff, I realize fighting a war while babysitting is a lot to ask, although it’s weird to say that to you…”
“I have to say that, frankly, I would be more useful fighting solo than in that platoon.”
I get that the platoon lacks training, but you’re telling me to make it a stationary force? They can’t handle mobile battles, so you’re telling me to defend the base while reeducating and training them? Isn’t that the same as ordering me to let the incompetent hold me back?! Tanya vehemently protests this crisis with indescribable rage. Unless the regulations that she learned at the academy have been revised, childcare is definitely not in a soldier’s job description.
It would be safer to hurl these novices into no-man’s-land and free myself of the burden. Maybe I should do that if I get the chance. No, I can’t judge them without even meeting them…
“As an officer, I have no plans to abandon my command duties, but I hope you will consider the way to use our forces most effectively.”
“These guys are backup. If the situation calls for it and the timing works out, we’ll send you on guerrilla missions.”
Even though he wants her to whip the platoon into shape, he’s implying from the start that he will send Tanya on her own if necessary.
“Understood. Are we permitted to abandon our position if need be?”
“Regrettably, we can’t pull the lines back any farther.”
“So we have to hold it?”
“Command says we can choose victory or Valhalla.”14
Victory or Valhalla? Is that even a choice? It’s just a roundabout way of ordering us to die on the line. No, it’s not even roundabout—it’s just narcissistic bullshit.
Why should I die for other people? If someone wants to die for me, that’s their prerogative, but forcing me to die completely violates my free will.
Freedom reigns supreme. We can be democratic, nationalist, or even imperialist, so long as I’m free. So please, stop issuing war bonds. Financing the war by printing bonds under the assumption the Empire will win just guarantees hyperinflation no matter how the war ends.
Win or lose, I can only imagine the future will be a barrel of fun. How utterly unpleasant.
“Splendid. Both options sound great.”
“Fantastic. Then I’ll introduce you to your platoon.”
Okay, time to greet my allies in this miserable war. If they happen to be in the right place at the right time, I might even use them as human shields, so I have to expect a lot out of them.
And so, though neither of them wanted to, the young lady and the little girl would slurp the same sludge and nibble biscuits so hard they had to chip them apart with bayonets before they could eat them, fighting side by side on the western front under
a shower of shells.
My first impression of my direct superior, Imperial Army officer Second Lieutenant Degurechaff of the western front mobile strike army, Seventh Assault Group, 205th Assault Mage Company, was “vampire.” Her skin was so white she looked sick, and her sharp eyes seemed to loathe the sun. It was quite a shock.
The first time I saw her, First Lieutenant Schwarkopf had ordered us to assemble, and as we were standing by, a little kid who looked bizarrely comfortable in her uniform showed up. She couldn’t have been a student from the Cadet Corps—she wasn’t even old enough to enroll. The cap sitting atop her messily tied hair was too big for her. Any normal soldier who saw her wearing the rank of second lieutenant would have done a double take.
When the company commander introduced her to us, though, I didn’t feel like anything was off about Lieutenant Degurechaff. I couldn’t quite explain it, but it was like she fit right in.
Still, the moment she turned her icy cold eyes on us like we were objects to be appraised, I shrank from her in spite of myself. People might laugh at me for being afraid of such a little kid, but those eyes reminded me of the way a cat looks when it’s playing with a mouse, which creeped me out.
Just like Elya said, Lieutenant Degurechaff was a veteran ace who had earned numerous decorations for her distinguished service, not the least of which was the Silver Wings Assault Badge. She had a thick aura of battle around her, and her face was almost doll-like, it was so pleasant to look at. Vacant blue eyes, blond hair tinged dark gray.
Maybe it was partly because we didn’t get much sun on the Rhine front, but I noted in my head that she looked just like a vampire.
She urged us, in a calm, businesslike tone that left no room for misunderstanding, to state our rank, name, and where we last served, and I felt—just a little bit—like I wanted to get out of there. The Cadet Corps had a simple method of categorizing cadets. The army knew very well that volunteers and conscripts wouldn’t be on the same wavelength, even if they trained together, so they divided the mages into two classes from the start. Battalion C was expected to eventually train as officers at the academy, and Battalion D would just complete their compulsory service.
